


be my fire

by sina



Series: just be mine [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Photography, Shower Sex, art gallery, art school au, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 07:09:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16081058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sina/pseuds/sina
Summary: Kent has been to numerous gallery shows in his time, but he has never seen anything quite like this.





	be my fire

**Author's Note:**

> hey all! sorry for the delay on this. I was in art school when I started this series, but I'm not anymore. I'm now studying to be a paralegal, and it's taking up a lot of time with homework and studying. anyway, I hope you enjoy this! it's a short, sweet story, and lord only knows how much we need more of those in the jackparse tag. lots of love, sina
> 
> ps as always, thanks for the beta from blazeofglory @Sam for helping me work out the kinks! you're the best, babe! <3

Kent has been to numerous gallery shows in his time, but he has never seen anything quite like this.

Jack, it seemed, had also been – or maybe still was – an athlete, and his photos of action are stunning.

Kent busies himself with a huge portrait of one of the track team members vaulting over a high pole – the lines crisp and clear, the action caught perfectly in the moment – when he notices a looming presence behind him.

“Sorry!” The presence says as he jerks around. “Didn’t mean to lurk, there, haha.” Kent is once more face to face with Jack Zimmermann, who has been filling his dreams and fantasies for the past several days.

Kent notes from the “sorry” that Jack is definitely Canadian. He somehow finds that unreasonably hot – he instantly pictures the boy clad in flannel, drinking instant coffee out of a tin mug somewhere up in the forests and mountains of the pacific northwest.

Kent clears his throat, which turns out much louder and nastier than he had intended. “Uh, sorry, that was gross,” he says, feeling the back of his neck and the shells of his ears heating up instantly. “Hi, Jack.”

Jack chuckles quietly. “Hi, Kent. Glad you could make it.”

“Me too,” Kent replies earnestly. “These are amazing, dude. I’m so impressed.”

“Ah,” Jack says with a shrug. “I’ve been around sports all my life, I just have an eye for it, I suppose.”

“Definitely,” Kent agrees, smiling. He bumps Jack’s arm with his shoulder and asks, “Show me your favorites?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jack says airily, returning the smile. “Over here are some of my cousin figure skating. She’s so graceful, it’s like the photos took themselves –”

He continues chattering as he takes Kent by the arm and steers him toward the left side of the gallery. The space is bright and cheery, and Kent helps himself to a small plastic cup of red wine as a member of the event staff passes. He sips gingerly as he focuses on Jack’s voice. He could get lost in that voice, he realizes.

They come upon the photographs of Jack’s cousin, showing several of her turning and a few of her in the air. Her hair whips around her features and her face shows severe concentration, but Kent’s favorite photo shows her grinning out at the audience from the kiss and cry. She has mascara marks and tears down her face, but a joyous, nearly fanatical grin playing across her features.

“I love this one,” Kent mentions as he gestures to it.

“Oh, me too,” Jack says. “That was when she won the provincial championship last year. I have rolls and rolls of that performance, but these few were my favorites.”

“She looks incredible,” Kent said, not hiding the awe in his voice. He’s equally impressed with the finesse of the girl on skates, and that of the photographer. He snaps his jaw shut, suddenly realizing he’s been gaping.

“Do you ever shoot… stuff… that’s not sports?” He asks dumbly.

Jack laughs lightly. “Yeah, sometimes. I’ve done a wedding or two, and some senior portraits. But my whole family is athletic, and I like photographing people close to me the most.”

“That’s great,” Kent replies with every ounce of sincerity he can muster. He’s not expressly trying to flatter Jack, but he can’t help it. He’s truly impressed, and fascinated by Jack’s obvious love for his family.

“It might be hard to make a living off of it,” Jack muses suddenly. “But I don’t know what else I’d ever like to do, you know?”

“You’re talking to a painter,” Kent chuckles. “And therefore preaching to the choir.”

Jack just laughs. “If I like what I see when you show me your stuff, maybe I’ll commission you.”

“Most of what I do is portraiture,” Kent admits, “but with kind of an abstract twist. It looks like garbage compared to your photographs.”

“I doubt that!” Jack says eagerly. Kent finally turns to look him in the eye, and those blue crystalline irises are practically sparkling. “I saw your drawings, you must be fantastic at something you’re more adept at.”

Kent blushes full on, and has to shut his gaping mouth once again. “Uh, wow. Thanks, bud.”

“No problem, bud,” Jack replies, a teasing edge to his voice.

Impossibly, Kent blushes harder.

Perhaps even more impossibly, he manages to steal Jack’s attention for the rest of the show. They chat aimlessly about art and family, pausing every so often for an admirer to compliment Jack on his show. He cheerily accepts the praise, but doesn’t linger on any conversation long enough for Kent to slip away. They both keep drinking the little cups of wine, too, and soon Kent feels dopey and hazy and comfortable with Jack’s heavy arm around his shoulders.

Wait. What?

At some point during the night, Jack had wrapped his arm around Kent and hadn’t tried to let go. He steers Kent around the gallery, occasionally dropping some details about a certain portrait or another, but mostly listening to Kent ramble about his own work.

“I mostly started painting after a bad knee injury,” Kent reminisces. “I took a bad hit and fell in a hockey tournament, and not enough physical therapy in the world could get me back in shape to play.”

“You played hockey?” Jack asks, eyes aglow. “That’s my favorite sport.”

“You any good?” Kent teases.

“I could beat your ass,” Jack guarantees, grinning.

“Well, you could now,” Kent replies flippantly. “I haven’t skated since the injury.”

Now Jack’s face has taken on a veil of sadness. “That’s really shitty, man. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Kent responds gently. “I miss it, sometimes, but I never loved it as much as I love to paint.”

“You must be really amazing,” Jack says again. Those damn eyes, Kent thinks. They’re enthralling. They’re lovely. They’re turning Kent into goo.

“Hey,” he says, suddenly looking around. “Where is everybody?”

Jack finally takes his arm back and glances at his watch. “Ah. The show ended ten minutes ago.”

“Should we get out of here?” Kent says, avoiding eye contact with a pissed-looking waiter.

“Yeah, probably,” Jack agrees. He puts his arm around Kent again (Kent positively melts) and they walk to the exit.

Jack apologizes profusely to the wait staff on the way out for keeping them working past closing. Kent thinks the pissed waiter might be gay, too, by the way he scans Jack up and down on their way out. Could he be jealous that Jack spent the whole night with Kent?

_Too late_ , he thinks to himself, smirking. _He’s mine now._

He’s absolutely stunned as he realizes this is probably true.

“Can I walk you home?” Jack asks quietly, stopping to face Kent.

“Uh, yeah, please,” Kent replies, a smile blooming on his lips.

“Sweet,” Jack replies, and Kent giggles at his outdated slang.

“I live at Bernhard Village,” Kent mumbles. “I usually take a bus; is a long walk okay with you?”

“Absolutely,” Jack says, smiling himself now.

Kent’s stomach flutters.

“Sweet,” he says with a touch of mocking.

Jack rolls his eyes good-naturedly and asks Kent, “Ready to head there?”

Kent is. He can’t help but flirt his heart out as they talk along the way; giggling about painting Jack someday, imagining his own future gallery shows out loud.

“So you’re an undergrad, still?” Jack asks.

“Yeah, I’m a junior,” Kent replies easily. “You?”

“Shame,” Jack declares. “I’m a senior.”

Kent laughs again. “Just means you get the hell out of here a year faster than me.”

Jack shrugs. “Just means I have to find a job a year faster than you.”

“Don’t worry,” Kent assures him. “You’ll be working for ESPN or some NHL team instantly, no problem.”

Jack sighs. “I hope so.”

“Hey, enough with the emo talk,” Kent says. “We’re almost there.”

“Oh,” Jack says. Kent likes to imagine he hears a bit of disappointment in Jack’s voice.

As they cross through the gate to Kent’s dorm, Jack surreptitiously takes Kent’s hand. Kent nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jack says, recoiling and instantly taking his hand back. “Too soon?”

“No, no,” Kent blurts. “I just… you just surprised me, that’s all.”

He reaches out and takes Jack’s hand back. Jack seems to exhale in relief.

When they reach Kent’s door, he stalls. 

“Um,” Kent starts, blushing. “Do you maybe… wanna come inside?”

“I should probably get home and shower,” Jack murmurs sheepishly.

“You know,” Kent says, feigning casualness, “I do have a shower.”

“You do, do you?” Jack replies coyly, a smile playing across his eyes.

“It’s pretty nice, too,” Kent says, averting his eyes. “Big enough for two.”

“In that case,” Jack says, exhaling a huge breath. “Lead the way.”

So Kent does.

Thankfully, none of his roommates are home, and he remembers to grab Jack a fresh towel from the spares he keeps in his closet.

Jack follows Kent into his room and sits primly on his bed. “This is nice,” Jack says, looking around at the room as if it were much bigger than it actually is.

“It gets the job done,” Kent replies, sitting next to Jack.

“You’re, um,” Jack begins, the most awkward he’s been all night. He’s a complete 180 from the confident young artist he had been at the gallery. 

Kent’s enthralled by this sudden change of pace.

He clears his throat again.

“I… I really had fun tonight,” Jack begins. Kent nods in agreement.

“Can I… Can I kiss you on the cheek?” He asks sheepishly.

Kent nods enthusiastically.

Jack plants a delicate kiss against Kent’s cheek. Kent moves to kiss Jack’s cheek in return, but Jack misinterprets and turns his head so that the kiss lands on his mouth. Kent makes a small sound of shock, but doesn’t move; this is the sweetest kiss he’s ever received, and he doesn’t want it to end.

They continue kissing for a tender minute, before Jack opens his mouth with a sigh. Kent takes advantage, poking his tongue briefly into Jack’s mouth, but Jack chases it with his own tongue, and suddenly they’re making out in a frenzy on Kent’s bed.

Jack places his hand on the middle of Kent’s thigh, and in a moment of uncharacteristic boldness, Kent grabs his hand and shifts it higher. Jack’s hand is right next to Kent’s crotch, but he doesn’t venture further just yet.

They separate slowly and gaze at each other with awe. “Hey,” Jack says. “How ‘bout that shower?”

“Yeah,” Kent breathes. “Yeah, it’s this way.”

They grasp each others’ hands again and make their way across the hall to the bathroom. Once behind a closed door, Kent sets the water running and makes sure it’s warm enough before he strips out of his shirt. He’s not facing Jack yet - he’s still infinitely more nervous than he will let himself admit to -- but Jack places his hand on Kent’s naked shoulder to turn him around. Jack has already stripped down to his boxers, and Kent can see his generous cock thickening beneath the fabric of his boxer briefs.

Kent gasps quietly, but doesn’t have time to think before Jack’s lips are on his again. He fumbles out of his jeans as they make out some more, and when he’s down to his own boxers, he pauses, slowly moving back from Jack.

“You… you sure this is okay?” He stage-whispers, just loud enough to be heard over the shower spray.

“You’ve already seen me naked,” Jack jokes.

“Yeah, but,” Kent protests. “I just wanna check.”

“It’s okay,” Jack says. He gulps, then adds, ”More than okay.”

He grasps Kent’s hands and moves them to his hips. Taking the invitation, Kent slowly slides Jack’s boxers down and Jack steps out of them. Then Kent straightens and puts Jack’s hands on his own hips; Jack looks pensive as he repeats Kent’s motions. Kent quickly turns around, hoping Jack’s impressed with the quick sight of his own cock, and draws the shower curtain back.

They step into the heat in unison, Kent shrugging under the water first. He shakes his head and splutters, and Jack laughs joyously. Wordlessly, they switch positions and Jack takes his place under the spray.

Standing under the stream of water, Jack takes Kent’s hands and pulls Kent toward him. Kent shuffles into Jack easily, joining him in the droplets. Jack’s eyes slide closed as he pulls Kent into another hot kiss, his hands sliding up Kent’s arms and to his chest. “This okay?” He asks as he pulls back and opens his eyes. 

“Yes,” Kent breathes desperately. “I want--” And Jack cuts him off with his lips.

They make out under the spray, moving together, Kent’s hands roaming on Jack’s body as Jack returns the favor. Their hands arrive at each other’s hips, and Kent rubs a thumb on Jack’s iliac crest, recalling that first day when he thought of placing a kiss there. 

“Can I -- can I, uh --” Kent stammers.

“Please,” Jack whispers back, his eyes pleading.

Kent moves his hand to Jack’s cock, and Jack sighs, head tipping back. He hits the back of the shower with his skull and laughs out loud, Kent joining him in raucous giggles. Shortly, though, they run out of reasons to laugh as Kent grasps Jack’s dick and squeezes.

“Ah,” Jack sighs again, closing his eyes. The water droplets play on his long eyelashes, and Kent realizes he’s focusing on the wrong thing, suddenly remembering to move his hand.

“Do you want me to -- to touch you?” Jack stutters, eyes still closed. His hand twitches at Kent’s hip, and Kent answers with a soft kiss to Jack’s neck.

“Yeah. Yes, please,” he murmurs into the space between Jack’s ear and his jaw. Jack’s eyes slide open, and he serves an intense look as his hand migrates to Kent’s groin.

Jack wraps his hand around Kent’s erection and they both start pumping slowly. Kent pants into Jack’s neck, and Jack encourages him with his own small sounds of pleasure.

The heat and steam of the shower surround them both as they breathe heavily. Kent flicks his finger over Jack’s tip, and he gasps, quickly copying the movement on Kent’s. Kent stifles a moan, not wanting the neighbors to hear. 

They make quick work of one another, Kent’s come quickly pooling in Jack’s hands. Kent continues breathing hard as he continues to work Jack under the slickness of the spray.

“Just a little more -- I -- oh --” Jack moans, not caring who can hear. Kent leans forward and bites down on Jack’s neck, hard, soothing it with a lick, and in that instant Jack’s back hits the wall as he comes hard in Kent’s hand. He pants heavily, licking his lips, as he comes down from the high.

“Beautiful,” Kent murmurs, mouthing at Jack’s neck again. 

Jack gulps, quickly amending, “No, you’re --”

“Shhh,” Kent admonishes, raising his hand to brush a thumb over Jack’s bottom lip. Jack quickly sucks it in, a quiet “mmm” sounding off somewhere in his chest.

Kent laughs and pulls his thumb away so he can kiss Jack all over again.

After another moment of making out, they separate. “I really do have to wash my hair,” Jack states sheepishly. Kent laughs again and turns around, leaning over to grab his shampoo. Jack wolf-whistles at the sight.

Kent snorts. “Please, with your ass? Mine pales in comparison.”

“I thought you might like it,” Jack muses, “Considering the way you drew it --”

Kent smacks his arm, feigning insult. “You said my drawings were good!”

“They are!” Jack squawks. “I just could tell you had a thing for --”

“Enough, enough,” Kent gasps through his laughter. “I get it, okay? I had a boner for you from day one, let’s just leave it at that!”

“...Really?” Jack asks after a short pause. He looks genuinely surprised.

“But you just said --”

“I was teasing --”

“God, you’re so cute,” Kent giggles as he lathers up Jack’s hair. He shapes it into a mohawk quickly, before the shower spray washes the suds away. Jack can’t stop laughing.

Through his labored breathing, Jack says, “I thought you were beautiful that first day. With the afternoon light in your hair,” and then he takes his own turn lathering up Kent’s golden curls.

“What? Are you drunk?” Kent splutters.

“A little,” Jack replies, then hastily adds, “Is that okay?”

“If it’s okay with you,” Kent says soothingly. “I’m a little drunk, too.”

“We should try this sober,” Jack suggests, and Kent brightens.

“You read my mind,” he replies, grinning.

\--------------------

After they’re all toweled off and wearing (Kent’s) clean clothes (which are very tight on Jack’s broad shoulders, Kent notes), Kent sees Jack to the door.

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” Kent offers.

“I don’t think two of us could fit in a dorm bed,” Jack answers truthfully. Kent just rolls his eyes.

“Maybe we could try your place, then,” He says sarcastically.

“We could,” Jack answers seriously. “I have a queen bed.”

Kent’s expression turns to one of wonder.

“Okay,” he responds. “Next time?”

“Next time,” Jack says, then adds a quick kiss to Kent’s cheek. “I really had fun tonight.”

“Wanna know how much fun I had?” Kent asks.

Jack looks confused until Kent grabs him by the collar and pulls him into a crushing kiss. Jack hums appreciatively, until they separate and his face looks wild.

“I think I understand,” He whispers, awestruck.

“Want me to call you a Lyft?” Kent offers.

“I got it,” Jack replies. “But maybe I’ll let you cover me next time.”

They share one more long kiss before Jack departs.

Kent watches him as he strides down the hall and turns toward the stairs. Jack turns and offers one last wave and a smile before he descends to the parking lot.

Kent closes the door and leans against it, heart pounding.

He just had one of the best days of his life.

When he sleeps, he dreams of blue crystals and soap suds, and wakes the next day feeling more rested than ever before.


End file.
